Should Death Do Us Part
by Teletraan-1
Summary: The battle of Chicago is over & the Autobots have to deal with the aftermath. The humans have finally found the technology to take the Transformers down & have used it to force the Autobots into hiding. Ratchet finds himself contemplating the point of the war and all those they have lost until a certain samurai reminds him of a little something called hope. Dratchet Fluff.


Should Death Do Us Part

 **A/N: Hello there. Welcome to a fic which contains the OTP that is taking over my life. I am of course talking about Dratchet. I thought this idea up one day and decided to write it down because why not. There aren't that many Dratchet fics out there anyway so I might as well add to the slowly growing tag :-) Anyway basic info for this fic. It's set in Bayverse just before the Fourth movie! I hate the fact that we got practically zero information about what went on for the bots between the third and fourth movie so yeah I'm making up a little something. This is a Bayverse story as I have already mentioned, but Drift and Ratchet's backstory comes from the IDW comics so I thought I should let you know that. I'm also using Drift's comic look, so the red and white colour scheme and the matching body look. And as for his voice (Since comic Drift obviously doesn't have one we can all relate to), the one I think fits him best is his Transformers: Rise of the Dark Spark voice. But if you wanna see Drift differently then please feel free to do so. Okay well I shall stop now. Enjoy the feels!**

 **SHOULD DEATH DO US PART…**

It was pitch black out there in the open, given that it was the middle of the night. The only light available was the splashes of white cast by the moon and the stars, the lights of the universe painted the black canvas above. Ratchet sat on a cliff's edge, astounded by yet another beautiful scene planet Earth presented to him. He passed time, on watch, trying to find constellations and he had to admit that it was a rather calming and enjoyable task. Humans always did have the strangest customs.

Humans.

Never would the medic have thought that the word would fill him with pain, regret and anger; amongst other emotions. But just as the planet continued to surprise him, the inhabitants did as well.

After everything the Autobots had done for this planet, the government had finally decided that they weren't good enough anymore and ran them out of their own base. It had been a hectic and confusing past couple of days.

After Chicago, everything went wrong. The human government blamed the Autobots for everything; the damage, the deaths, the Decepticons. It was ridiculous to say the least. To think of the countless times every one of them had put their lives on the line for such an ungrateful race, and it was all for nothing anyway. All those they had lost and for what? The list was far too long; Wheeljack, murdered by the cons during the Chicago battle. Jolt, Ratchet's promising apprentice, killed during a spec ops mission with N.E.S.T. to save his human teammates. Skids and Mudflap, suffered the same fate as poor Jolt. Their most recent loss was Mirage, the humans that ran them out of the base shorted out his spark right there in front of them all. Then there was Jazz, ripped in half by a newly awoken Megatron in their very first battle here on Earth. And finally, there was Ironhide… Ratchet's greatest friend, ripped away from them all by Sentinel. Hide was, without a doubt, the most stubborn 'bot Ratchet had ever met. The mech had been through hell and back and survived. Yet he was murdered by his former superior, definitely not a death that the warrior deserved. That was one image Ratchet will never have the gift of forgetting. The weapons specialist rusting away with no chance to save him. Ironhide's strangled cries of confusion sounded in the medics audios.

Quickly Ratchet shuttered his optics and tried to rid the image from his mind. He didn't need to see that right now. They'd been through enough lately and his processor was already struggling to keep up, he didn't need to add all this sorrow and mourning into the mess. Besides with the loss came new life. Well new life wouldn't be the right term. Really he should say more teammates, more family, that was what they had been blessed with. All those that had joined them had made a difference, had kept their numbers up in battle, provided companionship during times where there wasn't a fight. One particular 'new arrival' came to Ratchet's mind.

Drift.

He'd known that the former Syk addict, turned con had in fact defected to the Autobots quite a while ago. They had even had a few encounters over the years as teammates and Drift was more than happy to see the medic on better terms.

The very first time Ratchet had ever met the speedster was back on Cybertron, in his free clinic, down in the depths of the Dead End. Before and during the war, Ratchet had always devoted his life to helping those in need and although he may have been the Prime's personal medic, he never let function and wealth get in the way of who he helped. He still remembered the moment when he told Drift that he was special, that he had so much to live for. Subtly, Ratchet smiled at the thought of how far the samurai had come.

"Beautiful isn't it?" A smooth voice questioned into the night, scaring the poor medic on the cliff side.  
"Primus! Was that really necessary?" Ratchet grumbled at the new arrival.  
"It is when you react like that" Drift replied with a small chuckle. Ratchet just grumbled a bit more.  
"What are you doing up anyway? You should be recharging. I doubt we will get another chance like this. The humans are catching us a bit more every day." Sighing, the medic questioned his friend who took a seat beside him. Drift's slim, white and red legs dangled off the edge of the cliff in a child-like manner.  
"Memory fluxes, again…" There was no need to explain further. Ratchet knew exactly what went through Drift's processor when the mech closed his optics. Too many sparks weighed down on his shoulders and although he was a new mech to everyone around him, Drift's past still haunted him.

Ratchet knew what the weight of guilt felt like. All those sparks he couldn't save, all those Decepticons he had to kill to protect his friends, his cause, his family. Centuries of washed away energon that still somehow managed to stain the mech's hands. Guilt was a plague they all carried, it was just another cost of their long, devastating war.

Feeling supportive, Ratchet placed a servo on Drift's shoulder and gave the young mech a knowing look. Letting the kid know that he didn't have to explain himself further.

Thankful, Drift gave the usually closed off medic a small, grateful smile before the pair fell into a comfortable silence.

SHOULD DEATH DO US PART…

The silence didn't seem to last long once Drift started asking about all the different constellations above them. Ratchet didn't mind too much and indulged the samurai by explaining each one as best he could.

Both of the mechs were leaning back on their forearms, glancing up at the sky before them. With a sigh Drift turned his head to look at the medic beside him. It was all he could do not to smile at the sight. The universe's lights danced across Ratchet's frame, the new mint green colour of his alt mode glistened almost as bright as his optics. But what really caught Drift's attention was the expression of peace on the medic's face. It was rare to see the mech in such a bliss state and Drift had to admit that he felt rather proud that the mech felt relaxed enough around him to be himself.

Sure the stars were beautiful, but they had nothing on Ratchet.

Said medic was glancing up at the night sky rather happily, until he felt Drift's optics on him. With the smallest of smirks Ratchet continued to stare at the universe above him. "You should take a picture kid, it'd last longer."  
"Oh, sorry I… I uh I didn't mean to-" Drift stopped his fumbling once he caught sight of the medic's smirk. With another sigh, Drift leant back on his arms and was greeted with a warm chuckled which resonated from the mech beside him. The samurai just rolled his optics and followed Ratchet's optics back to the sky.

"Ratchet?" Drift asked. The medic hummed a reply and waited for Drift to continue. "Do you think one of these stars is home?" Ratchet looked over at the mech after he asked his question.  
"Um, no I don't think so, kid. Cybertron was dead long before Chicago, which means there's no light to be seen from anywhere." The medic replied solemnly  
"Well yeah I get that. But light takes a while to travel and Cybertron is thousands of light years away from Earth, right? So they would be seeing it for what it looked like thousands of years ago. The planet hasn't been dead for that long. So theoretically, we should be able to see it." Drift announced to his companion who seemed a little shocked at the truth in his words.  
"Huh, yeah. I suppose you're right." Ratchet admitted "Alright then smartaft, which one do you think it is?" the medic challenged the younger mech, who smirked back in acceptance. They soon began arguing about which speck above them was their home planet.

After plenty of bickering, the two settled on a star to be Cybertron. They decided on the light which had a rather bluish tint to it and a slightly greater sparkle than those around it.

A few minutes passed in silence before Ratchet spoke up. "You know, after what happened during the Chicago battle, I never thought I'd see home again. And after everything that's happened here I thought I might not need to. But I guess things change no matter what we wish." Drift said nothing, sensing Ratchet wanted to say more. "Where can we go now, Drift? Our home is gone and we are no longer welcome here. We can't just go and invade other planets." The medic gave a dry chuckle before continuing again "Can you believe it? Do you even remember why this war started? We were all fighting for a better Cybertron. But what's left to fight for now? Our own selfish desires destroyed the one thing we all wanted to rebuild." Drift didn't know how to reply to that. Nothing he could say would change the fact that Ratchet was 100% right.

They were running out of reasons to fight. But it seemed like they never ran out of enemies. Unfortunately, Drift knew he couldn't make Ratchet forget about the truth, but he could at least lift the mech's spirits a bit. "You're right, Ratchet. Everything you've said is true, but with all the pain and sacrifice came such a strong bond between bots who never would've even looked twice at each other before the war. Sure there was agony and loss, but I know I couldn't have lived another day in the Dead End with the functionists still in power. I mean without this war, you might not have ever met all those you consider family, those you care about. You might not have even gotten to know me…" at this, Ratchet looked up at the mech beside him, who he had suddenly realised was sitting rather closely to him. "It's because of you I've come so far, Ratch. Without this war I never would've made something of myself. So although it's brought so much pain, not a day goes by where I'm not thankful that the war started." Drift let the words sink in for a minute. Yes it was a selfish explanation for why he wanted the war to happen but it was the truth. All he could do was hope that Ratchet would appreciate that.

Ratchet listened to Drift's words and how sincere he was. It was a pretty big thing to admit and the medic had to give him some credit for speaking so freely about it. Not to mention he was beyond honoured that he was one of the reasons Drift wanted to change for the better. He was a good mech, and Ratchet had never had trouble telling the other that.

However, Ratchet had to use all his strength to remain focused on what Drift was saying. But needless to say it was hard when the mech he had fallen for some time ago was sitting close enough to capture his lips with minimal strain. Drift was the one distraction he would welcome anytime.

Subtly, Ratchet took a moment to look at Drift whilst said mech was staring out past the cliff face they were on. The medic couldn't deny the beauty of the mech beside him; the graceful helm with elegant finials, Spark stealing optics, broad shoulders, slim waist and of course those sinfully gorgeous hips. Eventually Drift's helm began to turn back towards the medic, causing Ratchet to snap his optics back up to the mech's face.

Realising that the samurai was still waiting for a response to his earlier confession, Ratchet did his best to try and string something together. "I dunno what to say, kid." _Wow, what an intelligent response! You might as well just have kept your mouth shut, genius._ "I guess you're right, I just… I just hope this will all be worth it in the end." Drift smiled softly when the medic finally found some words.

"Primus has a plan for us all, Ratchet." The samurai stated with confidence.  
"Yeah?" Ratchet scoffed. "Well considering your so called God is dead, I can't see him finishing his plans." He replied sarcastically.  
"We all carry Primus within us and you know it. So maybe he _has_ moved onto the well of sparks but that just means he'll be waiting for us when we meet our end. When we reunite with those we've lost." Drift persisted with a small smile at the thought of being with everyone, who had died, again. He was also smiling about the fact that Ratchet's atheism never wavered. The mech was strongly opinionated on the matter of their deity.  
"You read way too much into all this religious crap, you know that?" there was no malice in the medic's words and he made it even clearer by saying it all with a small smirk. The pair just stared at each other for a little while longer before chuckling.  
"So you tell me, Ratch. More than once I might add."  
"Hey, I have my beliefs and you have yours, however farfetched they may be." Ratchet said  
"You know one of these days you're going to say something nice to me, and it'll probably be before you tell me I have a terminal illness or something." They both started laughing quietly again, careful of the recharging bots around them.

Drift couldn't be happier to hear the medic laugh. It was such a smooth sound, one that made his spark flutter every time he heard it. It was rare that any of them laughed nowadays; so Drift made it his personal task to make the mech before him laugh as much as possible before they all separated in the morning.

Content in the moment, both mechs went back to looking up at the sky whilst they sat there propped up on their elbows. Moments of more silenced past again, the only sounds were that of the wind and the bot's vents.

Eventually, Drift broke the new silence randomly. He looked over to Ratchet with a small smile and said "We were meant to meet. Knowing you is destiny. Life forever changed". Confused, the medic looked over at the warrior with a questioning gaze. "It's a haiku, a form of poetry among the humans. They are short, to the point yet strangely beautiful. But that one has always been my favourite. You know why?" Ratchet just shook his head. _It's now or never Drift, make the most of it. You might never see him again._ "Because it makes me think of you."

This time, Ratchet really didn't know how to reply. But it seemed like Drift wasn't looking for one just yet. "A lot of things make me think of you, Ratchet. In fact, you're _all_ I seem to think about lately. Your personality, your skill, your beautiful optics. Everything I see somehow reminds me of you." By the time Drift was finished, he was truly breaths apart from the medic. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, because Drift sure as hell hadn't gone to the medic to confess his feelings for him. But for some reason he felt the desire to do it in that moment. He wanted, no… He _needed_ Ratchet to know how he felt. Maybe Primus was still guiding Drift? Or maybe it was just the realisation that they might not see each other again.

SHOULD DEATH DO US PART…

Not knowing what to think or how to respond, Ratchet just sat there staring at the samurai. His optics quickly flicking from Drift's own, to his mouth plates and back again. _Well aren't you the king of subtlety._

The medic's processor was running a mile a minute, trying to organise his thoughts and emotions but it just wasn't working out. Drift had just confessed that he's been thinking about him a lot lately and that he thinks his optics are beautiful and… "Knock it off, kid." Ratchet finally replied with a dry chuckle. Drift had to be joking, a perfect being like him thinking about a clunky old medic like Ratchet, that sort of thing just didn't happen.

Confused and a little hurt, Drift questioned the medic. "Knock what off?"  
"I get your joking around but I think you're taking it a little far now." Ratchet stated with a frown among his features as he leaned away from the warrior to give himself some breathing room.  
"But… Ratchet, do you really think I'd joke about something like that?" Drift replied defensively, holding his ground as he sat up; Constantly trying to regain Ratchet's attention.  
"Well how the hell am I supposed to know?" Ratchet asked with an annoyed tone.

Slightly frustrated, Drift grabbed Ratchet's shoulders in a hope to show the medic how sincere he was. "Ratchet, I would never toy with you about something like this. Look me in the optics and see how much I meant what I said!" The samurai hadn't really left Ratchet with many other options since he had a death grip on his shoulders that was keeping him in place.

Eventually, Ratchet obeyed and looked into the optics that stole his spark every time he saw them. But this time Ratchet didn't lose his spark to Drift's optics. Instead they acted as a gateway to Drift's own life force. The medic was hit with a mountain of emotions: Adoration, appreciation, happiness, a bit of frustration and lastly, love. Open, unconditional love. And it was all for Ratchet, every last bit of it.

"You're really not joking?" Ratchet still had doubts about this whole thing, he was still a bit of a pessimist at spark. Drift just rolled his optics and gave the medic a small smile.  
"Ratchet, if I was joking would I do this?" Drift threw all caution to the wind as he leant in towards Ratchet, their faces slowly inching closer. Besides, it didn't seem like Ratchet had been opposed to Drift's love for him, he just didn't believe him. This would be the best way to see if this thing was one sided or not.

Finally their lip plates met and Ratchet shuttered his optics. This was really happening. Drift was kissing him. Drift was _kissing_ him… It took the medic a moment to realise that he was just sitting there, with closed optics whilst the samurai did all the work. _THAT'S YOUR QUEUE TO ACTUALLY RESPOND!_ His mind shouted at him.

Realising that he had yet to participate in the action, Ratchet parted his own lips slightly and kissed the warrior back. All the pent up emotions that had been locked away for a good few hundred years, pouring out into this one moment.

Shocked, Drift's stomach grew 'butterflies', as the humans would say, when Ratchet kissed him back. He then smiled into the kiss when the medic's servo made its way to the back of his helm to hold him in place. It was as if Ratchet feared Drift might run off at any moment. The samurai could've laughed at how wrong he was if he thought that. There was no place he'd rather be.

When they finally broke apart, Ratchet laid his forehelm against Drift's and just let recent events sink in. Somehow, Drift ended up lying flat on his back with the medic hovering over him. Neither of them could recall even moving once the whole thing started.

Slowly, Drift lifted his optics up to look at the mech above him and chuckled sweetly. "That better not be feedback on my performance." The medic stated with a smirk.  
"No, it's definitely not. I just should've realised that actions speak louder than words when it comes to you." This time it was Ratchet's turn to laugh.  
"I guess you're right, kid."

They spent the rest of Ratchet's shift talking and just being with each other for however long they could.

SHOULD DEATH DO US PART…

Unfortunately, the morning came around far too fast for both mechs. Eventually everyone woke from their recharge and gathered around in a small group.

Prime stood in front of the group of Autobots ready to give another memorable speech. But how good would a motivational speech be when the, supposedly regal, mech delivering it looked deflated and lost. "Autobots, it is with great displeasure that I tell you of my plan. We have always been more than a team, we have slowly become a family and I could not be more grateful for the dedication and support you have all provided over the short time we have been together. However, it seems our efforts have not been well received, we are being hunted by those we've sworn to protect-"  
"Ha! Those puny humans are a bunch of back stabbin' squishies tha' never even deserved protectin'. Even tha' damn kid you lot are so fond of kicked us to the curb!" Roadbuster interrupted loudly  
"We may have been abandoned, Roadbuster, but that does not changed the fact that the humans should not have to pay for the mistakes made by the Decepticons. We still have a duty to protect them. Some may not trust us, but others simply have not been given the opportunity to decide for themselves. You must not judge the race based on a decision made for them by a minority.

"Moving on, I have come to the conclusion that separating us will be the best tactic of survival. What happened to Mirage was a display of the power our enemy now possesses. Splitting up is our best option."  
"But Prime, what kind of survival is that? Alone in a world that doesn't accept us anymore." Sideswipe questioned, it was the first time the mech had spoken since the death of his best friend. He and Mirage had grown close over the year that the Ferrari had spent of earth.

Optimus remembered how young and innocent Sideswipe used to look, back when he and his brother were together in the early years of the war, trying to find their place. Now, Sideswipe had aged beyond his years. He was one of the youngest in the team yet looked as though he'd been around as long as Optimus himself had. It was a sad realisation if he was being honest. Those like Sideswipe had some of, what were supposed to be, the greatest years of growing up tainted by war and bloodshed.  
"It may not be ideal, but it is survival none the less. We have lost too many comrades in recent years so I believe keeping a low profile will help our sparks stay lit whilst the humans calm down. Once they begin to cease chasing us that is when we come together again. Until then, Primus bless us all. We shall see each other again." Even defeated, the mech's words were enough to bring pride to even the most closed off mechs. He demanded undivided attention before even uttering a word. It was at times like these when every single one of them remembered why Optimus was their Prime.

Once Optimus gave everyone their locations, Drift pulled Ratchet over to secluded part of the canyon they were on. "So, this is it, huh?" Ratchet just nodded in reply to the samurai's words. "Listen, Ratchet, before we go our separate ways, I uh… I wanted to tell you… that-" with a sad smile, the medic pulled Drift towards him and silenced him with a kiss. Slowly, Drift's tense shoulders dropped down until they were relaxed, and the arms connected to them found themselves of an angular set of hips. Reluctantly, Ratchet pulled away and met the other mech's optics. "I know, Drift. But save it, you're gonna be back by my side coming out with a load of spiritual rubbish again soon enough." The samurai couldn't help but chuckle  
"For once, I really hope you're right." Drift stated  
"When am I ever wrong?" replied a secretly worried medic.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! Funny this was supposed to be a one shot but the story kept going so this might have a couple more chapters in the future. But for now this kinda works as a one shot so I hoped you enjoyed it! I'll see about getting that next chapter up for you guys soon. Cheerio!**


End file.
